Phantoms Now
by Saya-Sama
Summary: The war is over, the castle has been abandoned, and they are the only ones left. It is only through each other that they can prove they exist. Allen/mystery person


**Hello! Last update before Saya goes to grandmas. This was a one-shot requested by a friend on dA sometime during February vacation...and Saya's only getting to it now, yes. She's an unreliable tard and she knows it. Anyway, the challenge for this fic was that it is Allenxmystery person. That person is never named specifically, but you can pretty much tell who it is. Sorry if this came out really confusing though...**

**Disclaimer: no owning the DGM**

**Warning: T for safeness. Accidental somewhat angst, boys kissing, doubting of one's own existence, the usual...Post-canon, and the raid on the Black Order never happened 'cause they're still in the castle.**

The war was over. In the end, it had been everyone's power combined in one final attack that had finished off the Earl. He was out of their lives, and eventually the tragedies known as akuma stopped occurring. The Akuma had all been found and destroyed after a few years, and one by one the people who still had families and homes outside of the Order left, leaving only those with nothing left behind.

People like Allen, who had lived for the war, were left with nothing solid to hold onto. His purpose had been achieved, his goals all met, so why was he still a part of this world? It didn't seem to add up to him. What was his reason for existing now? What was he to walk towards now that he no longer had a goal? His sense of self was nearly nonexistent now. His innocence was dead, though according to the few scientists left the proper term would be "Dormant". He no longer had his outrageous appetite, he no longer had power of the ability to save, there was no one left to save. There was no more need for his cursed eye either, there was nothing left to see.

He felt like a bit of a ghost, haunting the castle even as more and more people left to rebuild their lives. It became more and more apparent that the only people who really intended to stay were the exorcists, excluding Lenalee (she and Komui intended to return to their childhood home) and Lavi (he and Bookman had mysteriously disappeared after the victory celebration). He supposed it made sense in an ironic sort of way that God's soldiers were the ones that were abandoned at the end of this holy war.

But people were still there, so Allen didn't feel like he was the only ghost haunting the castle. A few of the brave scientists who hadn't left when the Vatican had declared their experiments heresy continued to tinker in their labs, Jerry continued to cook, Kanda, Marie, Miranda, Korry, and even Generals Klaud and Sokalo had decided to stay for a time.

But still almost everyone was gone. The finders had all but run back to their hometowns to start over again, with a renewed idea of the value of life. When the Vatican decided that most of the science department's experiments were blasphemy against God and the Church, many of the scientists fled to America and Germany. All the other factions of the Order had gone to put their talents to use elsewhere. Yes, only a pitiful fraction of the Order still remained together.

000

Everyday Allen walked into the dining hall and felt that it had less people in it. So he started to avoid it, it wasn't as though he really needed to eat so much or so often anymore, his lack of appetite was just another cruel reminder that everything was over. As the castle became less and less public and more and more his, Allen started wandering, exploring. He hadn't known much about the castle before, so now was the time to find out what had once happened there.

Allen had a companion when he wandered, who simply walked with him, silent and understanding. He and Allen suddenly seemed much more similar than they had before. They were both ghosts now, haunting this castle because they had nothing left to live for on the outside. Both of them were just remnants of the past, with nothing to look forward to.

This morning was going to be like every morning, Allen knew when he woke up. He did his usual exercises (that no longer needed to be done, but were repeated daily for the sake of habit), got on his usual clothes, and left his room to find his fellow 'ghost' leaning on the wall directly across from his door. He looked up when Allen's door opened, and quickly examined Allen with his eyes before deeming him proper, as he did every morning.

"You're eating today," he stated, and before Allen could protest, grabbed his hand and all but dragged him to the dining hall. Allen sighed, he knew this would happen today, his friend had this pushy little way of making him take care of himself. The other man was so direct it was almost cold, but that directness also made it obvious that he cared, or at least cared enough to make Allen take care of himself. Then again, maybe he didn't really care so much at all, and just didn't want to be left alone in this place, with no one left to really relate to? Headquarters was feeling more and more deserted by the day.

Jerry still wasn't used to the small portions Allen asked for. Well, they weren't small, they were normal now, but that was small for Allen, it always would be. So Allen did his best to try to ignore the fact that there was only a handful of people left in the dining hall with them, and ate his small meal quickly, his fellow phantom sitting and waiting all the while. For once though, Allen attempted to be happy when he ate, like he used to be. He got the feeling Jerry wouldn't be around for much long.

000

For the first time since they started staying together, Allen hadn't been dragged to the dining hall first thing in the morning. Instead, when Allen left his room that morning, he found the other already waiting there for him with two plates in hand. It was nothing fancy, and it most definitely wasn't Jerry's cooking, so Allen could only assume that the last of them had finally left. So instead of going to the deserted dining hall, the two ate on the floor of Allen's room.

It was easier to be alone when they were in such a small place. Allen's room was of average size, so having just two people in the room felt comfortable, whereas when it was just the two of them sitting in the dining room it felt cold and lonely. But _he_ always walked through the halls, despite how empty they were, even though he had so many memories of them being busy and full of life. He was always doing things like this, protecting Allen without saying a word about it. He was much, much stronger than Allen.

As strong as he was though, it had only been a matter of time before even he decided that he couldn't be out there alone anymore. He never said it out loud, but Allen knew. Allen's room slowly became their room, his bed became their bed, because if either of them left the other's sight, they wouldn't come back, they would just disappear. That's how it felt, at least.

Casual contact had slowly started to seem much more appropriate and acceptable than it ever really had been between the two of them. Especially when they went to explore the castle; A brush of the fingers, bumping shoulders, sometimes Allen would push him forward when he stubbornly refused to go somewhere or he would pull Allen forward by the hand when he had somewhere he wanted to be. They would drag each other around like this even for little things. Being alone never crossed their minds anymore.

Allen knew why that was too, without needing to be told. Being alone as they were, it was difficult to remember (to _prove_ even to themselves) that they existed. Allen knew that he had, at one point, but what if he no longer existed in this world? What if he had just died, and really was lingering in this tower like a ghost, just watching as time passed? Now that everyone had gone, and it was just him and Allen, there was no definite way to discern the passage of time. A few clocks still worked, but most of them would no longer move their hands because they weren't taken care of. There was no time in this place anymore.

But even if time really had stopped for Allen, it wouldn't matter to him, as long as he wasn't alone. As long as _he_ still existed with Allen, as long as they shared the same plane of life (or death), it was ok. As long as he wasn't alone, as long as he still existed. If they could just touch, if they could still feel and share heat, then they could convince each other that they still existed.

But even then, it was getting harder and harder to believe that was true. Just because Allen could see him, did that mean he was there? Sometimes Allen could see the things he wanted to see when he walked down the halls or into familiar rooms. Sometimes he could see Reever waking Komui up at his desk, sometimes he could hear the usual chatter of people who were no longer there. Could Allen be sure that _he_ wasn't an illusion too? He acted so differently now than he had before, was this really him, or was he nothing more than a figment of Allen's imagination, something to stop him from believing he was insane, or alone, or dead?

Unsure, Allen drew closer to him, the only person who was still left around him. Closer and closer he went and sometimes it was too close, but that was fine because that irritation and sometimes wariness that his companion showed proved that he was still himself somewhere under his now ghostly exterior manner.

Oddly enough though, the more Allen doubted how real he was, how real they both were, the more something burned in his chest, in his fingers, anywhere they touched. It was a happy feeling, or at least it should've been. Allen knew it should've been. He couldn't really identify it, and he felt it as though he were in a dream, or as if he were experiencing another person's emotions. Still, more and more these feelings became closer to Allen as well, they were slowly becoming his own again. Allen was sure that when they were completely within his grasp again, he would be able to understand them and share them.

So for now he would just let the fire of those emotions move closer and consume him.

000

They had found a new room one day. It was a room that seemed to have been deserted even before the castle had been. It was like Allen, like _him_, abandoned and forgotten. Allen liked this room already, it was a phantom just like they were.

It was just an empty room, with nothing more than a window that happened to have some curtains. Discolored, moth-eaten curtains that looked as though they would crumble to dust under one's fingers, but they were there, as a reminder that someone had been there once. Allen slowly opened them, and let the cold stone room feel the sun for the first time in only God knew how long.

They sat on the floor of this room, shoulder to shoulder for if they lost contact for too long the other might disappear. This closeness wouldn't have been allowed just a year ago, or maybe it had been two years already? Maybe even three? The only measure of time either of them had was their hair, which grew and grew and was never cut, because it proved that time (their time) was still moving.

"You seem much more sure of it than I do," Allen said one day when they had come back to that room. "You have your moments, but you seem much more sure of your existence that I do. Why is that?"

"Three reasons," his fellow ghost replied. "One, I was sure that I existed once, so I must still exist now. Two, I think therefore I am, and three, I'm sure I'm still here because of something I-... Never mind." Allen gave him a questioning look, but did not ask further. Even if they were the only ones left, some things were better left alone.

"But how can you be sure I'm here?" Allen asked, because if _he_ was sure of Allen's existence, then Allen could be too.

"Because I was sure you did before too."

"But what about now? How do you know that I'm real now?"

"Because a hallucination wouldn't ask if it was real." It was obvious that he didn't want to doubt that Allen was there, but Allen wanted to be sure that he was sure. Why was he sowing the seed of doubt then?

"But if you're doubting it yourself, you could make me say it." He sighed, though Allen could tell that it had become harder for him to be sure of Allen's existence now too.

"Back when everyone started leaving and we were still ourselves, you were the last person I would've wanted to hallucinate about, that's why I know you're real," he huffed out finally, and looked away with a bit of a scowl on his face. Allen felt a bit affronted, but even that emotion was welcome for it was different from the usual numbness. It felt like before.

"Right, and I can feel you so you have to exist," Allen said, giving his own reason for believing in their own being here. "Not even the most perfect illusion could make my fingers warm when I touch you."

"You've been saying strange things lately."

"Sorry."

000

"So why didn't you leave when the rest of them did, anyway?" Allen asked, as the two of them sat in that phantom room yet again.

"Everything I had wanted to do that I could do was done during the war. Nothing will ever be able to take the place of that war." Nothing could be as fulfilling as the purpose that war had given them, nothing. Still, he was so wasted, _wasted_, on Allen and this place, he could still live in the world and do something great, or even just live quietly somewhere peaceful. Allen would never be foolish enough to suggest he go back home, and Allen didn't want him to leave, but he felt like he was wasting something precious to the world on himself.

"Why didn't you leave? I had half-expected you to go join the circus again," he asked back. Allen gave a light laugh.

"I'm too paranoid now. After living so many years of my life fearing the Earl and the akuma, I couldn't possibly live in the world again. Especially now that my innocence doesn't work, and there's nothing for my eye to see. It feels like it's just not working now, it just doesn't realize that there's nothing left to see." He gave a small nod, acknowledging Allen's reasons for staying behind.

"So we're just stuck here now, huh?" Allen asked rhetorically. Another nod. They were both stuck, dwelling in the past and they both knew it.

000

That feeling was all-consuming, it was growing in Allen as fast as a fire but as slowly as a cancer. When would it completely become his again? How many more days would it be now before Allen felt alive? Alive and real and _there_? How could Allen speed up the process? Could he at all? Or did _he _need to be the one to really give those emotions (emotions that were at the tips of his fingers but still too far away to grasp) back to Allen?

And was Allen the only one who was close to feeling human again? What about _him_? Allen couldn't just let him suffer alone like this forever. But maybe, because it seemed that Allen's coming back to himself was dependant on him, that he was feeling the same? Allen hoped so.

"Do you still feel human?" Allen asks, and they're always in that one abandoned room they found, it wasn't like they hadn't found other rooms that had been left behind before the Order had been, but they found that this one suited them best.

"It doesn't matter if I feel human because I am and that isn't changing," he answered. He always gave these answers that depended on logic upholding itself, but logic didn't really exist here, not anymore. What was to say they had ever been human in the first place? Hadn't they always been just weapons? Logic will not uphold itself here.

"But do you feel alive, or like you're really here anymore?"

"It doesn't matter if I feel alive because I am and that has yet to change. It doesn't matter if I feel like I'm here, because I am and that isn't ever going to change either." Allen was tempted to temporarily ban the phrase "I am".

"That's a little depressing to think about," Allen commented, wondering what had happened to himself, what had happened to them both? Allen had never thought that he'd end up like this, without ambition or a goal. Honestly, he really hadn't expected to live this long at all.

"Yeah, well, living like ghosts in an abandoned castle is more than a little depressing."

"Does it really have to be though?"

"How could it be anything but?" Allen didn't know the answer to that, but he was sure that the feeling that burnt him up inside was the proper answer.

"We could make it...not...depressing?" Allen offered, and knew before he asked that the proper answer to that question would be "How?" Apparently he realized that Allen knew this and didn't bother to ask.

000

Allen woke up one day and knew the answer. The answer to everything, it seemed to him, but really it was the answer to just one question, but that would set off a chain reaction and surely everything would be clear again. The fire that had been burning so quickly and so slowly had finally reached him, he could finally feel it for himself and he hadn't felt so alive since the war had ended.

Allen knew this feeling, it was a little different from before, but he knew it. It was love. It didn't even occur to Allen that he should be disgusted with himself for loving another man. Social constructs didn't matter here. If he wanted to love the only person who had stayed with him all this time, then he would. He didn't doubt that this feeling was real, he had waited for it for so long and had felt it grow, he knew it was real.

But now that Allen knew, he wondered if his phantom felt the same way. And how did one go about telling their only companion this? What if Allen's feelings made him finally leave? Allen wouldn't be able to stand living in this castle alone, but at the same time he wouldn't be able to leave it either. Would Allen's words finally drive his one phantom knight away?

Then again... What if they brought him back to life? What if sharing his emotions was all Allen needed to do to bring them both back from this strange limbo they were in, not living nor dead? Was it worth it to try?

Well, there was no question about that.

Allen looked to his side, he was still there, still asleep, which was unexpected because he usually woke up first. Allen didn't mind waiting until he woke up, even though he was suddenly bursting at the seams with excitement and life. Instead, he just leaned over the sleeping figure, and kissed his lips lightly. The moment their lips met however, his eyes fluttered open. There was none of the expected anger in them, just a question. Even so, Allen suddenly felt flustered, and pulled away, feeling like a child who'd just been caught with his hand in the cookie jar. Still, even though he was flustered, it felt nice, because it was a feeling. It felt great, being able to experience his own feelings again.

He sat up, rubbing his sleep-muzzed hair. "You've been doing strange things lately," he observed as if it were nothing of any particular importance. Allen was seized with the worry that maybe it really was nothing to him, maybe he just didn't care about anything anymore, so he wouldn't care if Allen had kissed him?

"I...I think I love you, so I kissed you," Allen admitted, with as much strength and conviction as he could muster.

"You_ think_ you do?" He asked, raising an inquisitive eyebrow. Ah, Allen had said something wrong. No matter how sure he sounded, it was all pointless if he didn't say it with convincing words. "You should be more sure of these things before you kiss someone in their sleep. I've been sure for a while, so I had nothing to worry about, of course." He sounded a bit arrogant while he said that, and Allen couldn't help but feel that was very befitting of him, if not a tad annoying. But then, that's how things had always been before, and that's how things should always be, Allen thought.

"I-I am sure! It was just a slip of the tongue. A-and wait...for a while? And what would you have had to worry about...?" Somehow Allen found himself feeling very euphoric even though he was a bit confused. This was better than Allen had hoped for, but unfortunately that was about as good as it got.

He got out of bed, dropping the subject with the command "figure it out yourself." Allen huffed, but followed suit and got ready for the day. They were undoubtedly going back to their phantom room, where they were just there and whatever they wanted to be. There was something about that one room with it's dusty everything and that little ray of sunlight from the window that was always comforting to them.

So again, they sat shoulder-to-shoulder. It almost seemed like nothing had changed. But something had, and it would continue to change. They had it all back again, both of them did, they could both be sure of everything now, even when maybe they shouldn't be. But Allen didn't really care about any of that, because it didn't really matter here. It was just the two of them here, without rules and other people to watch and frown disapprovingly. Allen smiled at the thought of spending the rest of his time (his never-changing, never-moving time) here with this person. He looked up to the one who sat beside him, and gave another kiss to his phantom knight.

**For the record, they really aren't dead, even though they're referred to as ghosts/phantoms a lot. And also, even though their sharing a bed, they aren't doing anything. That's about it. Saya hopes you didn't get too confused by the overuse of pronouns...**


End file.
